


your move, jensen

by laminy



Series: tell me what you want [1]
Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: First Time, M/M, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-12 04:26:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11154216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laminy/pseuds/laminy
Summary: “It's not like Clay's never been kissed, but still, he could do with some pointers. Jeff is always willing to help. Maybe things get out of hand?” (prompt from 13reasonswhy_x kink meme)





	your move, jensen

Jeff sighs, tapping his pencil rhythmically against his textbook, the light thumps from the eraser almost deafening in the quiet library. Clay looks up from his notes, watching the pencil bounce up and down for a few seconds before Jeff clears his throat and he meets his eyes. 

“So? Is it bad?”

“Uh…” Clay gapes at Jeff for a moment before glancing back down and then shaking his head. “No! No, it’s not bad.” He stutters a breath when Jeff rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed and not believing a word of it. “No! Seriously. It’s not _bad_. It’s way better than your first draft. It just needs a bit more work. That’s all.”

“I’ve got practice after school tomorrow, and an away game this weekend,” Jeff says. “I really want this paper to not suck, but dude I’m running out of time here.”

“Yeah, uh…” Clay looks down at his watch. “We can meet up later again today, after school, if you want? I’m almost done editing this. If you look at again and try to fix it I can look at it again over the weekend, you’ll be done with it Sunday night, ready to hand in Monday morning.” He watches Jeff expectantly; he seems hesitant, like he doesn’t really believe that his paper is that close to being ready. “Seriously Jeff, it’s not _bad_. There’s only like, two more hours of work in here, tops.” He tries to give him a hopeful smile.

Jeff sighs again, looking away from Clay and pinching the bridge of his nose, a habit he’d picked up as a kid, signalling to anyone around him that he was stressed. “Yeah, okay. Tonight. Sure. I was supposed to meet Monty for a pre-game thing, but that’s fine.”

Clay blinks, momentarily confused as to what pre-game thing would taking place two days before the actual game, but he doesn’t want to question it. “Okay, cool. Did you want to come over to my place? I can text you the address.”

“All my shit’s at my house, so just bike over?” Jeff suggests. He hits the power button on his phone, checking the time. Their free period is over in 10 minutes. “Any time.” He closes his textbook and reaches behind him to grab his jacket off his chair. “You can come for supper if you want, but I’m not my parents will be home by then anyway, so whenever you want.”

“Okay, sure,” Clay says, watching Jeff pack up before realizing that he too has to get to class. “I’ll text you when I’m on the way.” He picks up Jeff’s essay, waving it as he speaks. “I’ll finish this and bring it with me.”

Jeff clasps Clay on the shoulder, giving him a short squeeze as he walks by him, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Thanks Clay, I owe you one!”

“Don’t worry about it,” Clay says quietly, watching Jeff walk through the door, then looking back down at the essay when he catches himself staring.

\+ + + + +

Jeff had texted Clay his address, and after finishing supper with his parents, Clay grabbed his backpack, Jeff’s edited essay tucked inside, and hopped on his bike. He pumped his legs quickly. It wasn’t a long ride, and there was a slight breeze in the air as the day began to end. He probably could have worn a jacket, but by the time he gets to Jeff’s house, he’s breathing heavily and his forehead is sweating just a bit. Clay stops his bike in front of Jeff’s house, looking up at it. Jeff’s car was in the driveway, but there is no sign of Jeff’s parents. Clay climbs off his bike and wheels it up the driveway, leaning it against the side of the house before walking up to the front door. He knocks a couple times, then thinks about grabbing his phone to text Jeff to let him know he’d arrived. He takes his bag off one shoulder and pulls it around to unzip it. He’s just started digging through it to find his phone when the door opens, Jeff smiling brightly in front of him, holding a spoon in one hand and a bowl of cereal in the other.

“Hey Jeff,” Clay says, awkwardly releasing his backpack, dropping it back down. “How’s it going?”

“Awesome,” Jeff says cheerfully before taking a large bite of cereal. “Come on in.” He steps backwards in the doorway, letting Clay step into the house, then shuts the door after him. “Did you eat already?” he asks, gesturing to the bowl with his spoon.

“Yeah,” Clay nods, “my dad made pizza and Cesar salad. I uh, I could have brought you some leftovers, if I had known you’d be eating cereal.”

“No worries, Clay,” Jeff says, taking another bite. “Helps me get my iron in.”

“Right,” Clay agrees quietly, not remembering the last time he’d actually thought about vitamins, but thinks if he was an athlete, maybe he’d care about that sort of thing too. “So I uh, finished editing your paper after school. Do you wanna go over it?”

“Sure, just let me grab a drink first,” Jeff says, turning and heading down a short hallway, Clay following a second behind him. He sets his bowl down on the counter then moves to the fridge. “Did you want anything?”

“To drink?” Clay repeats. “No, I don’t really…drink.”

Jeff looks up from the fridge, smiling. “On a Thursday night studying? No, me either man. I meant like, orange juice or something.”

“Oh! Yeah,” Clay says, “well, no, I’m still good. But thanks.”

“No sweat.” Jeff grabs a can of Coke off the side of the door then walks by Clay again, heading back to the staircase at the front of the house. “My room’s up here,” he says, giving Clay a quick glance behind him. 

Clay follows up the stairs behind Jeff, looking at the photos of Jeff and his family hanging on the walls as he passes. It looks as though Jeff has always been playing baseball; no wonder he’s so good at it.

At the top of the stairs, Jeff leads Clay past the bathroom on his left to the first room on the right. Jeff had left his laptop open, a lamp on, and an Apple Music radio station playing quietly. Jeff sits down on the edge of his bed and picks his laptop up before moving back, sitting against the wall. He grabs a pillow to put on his lap, setting his computer down, then opens his Coke, taking a drink before leaning back and setting it on the sill of the window behind him that looked out onto the front lawn. He gestures to his desk, his blue varsity jacket hanging off the back of a black chair.

Clay looks around the room as he moves to the desk, sitting down and dropping his backpack on the floor. There were posters of athletes he didn’t recognize, and a couple movie posters that he did. He leans down, grabbing Jeff’s essay, flattening it out on the desk.

“Give it to me straight, Clay,” Jeff says, “how bad is it?”

“I already told you,” Clay replies, “it’s not bad. It’s pretty good, actually.”

“Thanks, try not to sound _so_ surprised.”

“Oh, no, that’s not what I meant,” Clay says quickly, leaning forward in the chair, “I just meant—”

Jeff laughs. “I’m just fucking with you Clay, don’t worry about it. Can I see?”

“Yeah, sure,” Clay stands up and leans forward, slipping the paper into Jeff’s outstretched arm.

Jeff starts looking at Clay’s notes, keeping his eyes on the paper as he reaches back to grab his Coke off the windowsill. Clay bounces his foot, feeling strangely uncomfortable with Jeff reading Clay’s edits, like Jeff was now the one tutoring him. Jeff groans quickly and puts his drink back. “Okay, yeah. This doesn’t suck. I’m just so fucking over it, already, I feel like I’ve been working on it forever.”

“And you’re almost done,” Clay reminds him. “I mean, it’s all there. It’s mostly just grammar at this point, and I think I’ve pointed out most of it.”

“What’s this?” Jeff asks, holding the essay up, his finger on a paragraph with several green pen squiggles around it. 

“Uh,” Clay stands up and leans forward again, eyes squinting at the page from across the room before Jeff rolls his eyes.

“Dude, just sit down,” Jeff says, glancing at his bed. 

Clay climbs onto the bed next to Jeff, his eyes still focused on the paragraph, trying to remind himself of what he was trying to say. “Right, it’s just at that point, you’re talking about feminism, right?”

“Well, sort of,” Jeff says, quickly glancing at the page. “Sexism. In the book.”

“Okay,” Clay says, and he reaches out to take the essay from Jeff, meeting his eyes for a moment to ask for permission. Jeff hands the paper over, and Clay settles in comfortably next to him, holding the paper so they can both see it clearly. “It’s just, I think I know what you’re arguing, and I think you do too, it’s just not totally clear.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, read it over again,” Clay says. “Out loud, if it helps.”

Jeff gives Clay a side-eye, but pushes his shoulders back and straightens up to read the paragraph as if he were presenting it. Clay nods along with the words, then looks at Jeff when he’s finished. “Do you hear it?” Clay asks. He isn’t sure if Jeff can tell the issue or not, but he doesn’t want to be a dick about it. Jeff hesitates, still looking at the page. Clay waits another moment, then turns further to Jeff. “Is it okay if I tell you what _I’m_ hearing?”

“Yeah, sure,” Jeff says, and he looks down at his computer to open the Word document.

“I _think_ what you’re doing is critiquing the sexism in the story,” Clay begins, “and I sort of get that, but I think it also comes off like you’re critiquing the book for being sexist itself.”

“But the book isn’t sexist,” Jeff says, “that’s the point.”

“Right,” Clay agrees, nodding. “But…” He watches Jeff’s fingers fly across the keyboard as he types something into Google, then opens a reddit page in the results.

“See?” Jeff says. “ _Portrayal is not the same as condoning._ That’s what I’m trying to say.”

“Okay,” Clay nods again. “So, say that. Just, clearer. You’re saying that the people in the book are sexist, not that the book itself is sexist. You just need to cut out some of this other stuff. Be succinct, I think it’ll help.”

“Yeah, okay,” Jeff mutters, and he’s back to the Word document, highlighting the paragraph and then starting to retype it.

“But yeah,” Clay says, flipping through the essay again, “other than that…you’re a little repetitive in the introduction and conclusion, so I think there’s a couple things you can cut out and shorten, but the rest of it is mostly just, yeah, grammar. Maybe not so many semi-colons, until you know how to use them better.”

Jeff shrugs, still working on the new paragraph. “Is that all?”

“I think so,” Clay says. “If you want to go through it now, I can just hang out until you’re done and then edit it again. I’m sure it’ll be fine after that.”

“Okay,” Jeff says, taking the essay back from Clay, setting it down next to him so he can start at the beginning and go through each of the grammatical errors that Clay has pointed out.

Clay pushes himself off the bed, going to his backpack, finally digging out his phone. He has no notifications, but he sits down in the desk chair, going to Facebook anyway. He looks up when he realizes that Jeff has stopped typing. “What’s up?”

Jeff is watching Clay, his hands still at the keyboard. “Are you just going to play on your phone?”

“Uh,” Clay looks down at his phone, “well, yeah, just until you’re done. If it bothers you, I can put it away.”

“No, it doesn’t bother me,” Jeff replies, “but aren’t you going to be bored? I’m sitting here fixing semi-colons.”

“I’m caught up on all my work,” Clay explains. 

“Ugh, dude,” Jeff rolls his eyes and closes his laptop. “I can finish this before school tomorrow and print it off. If you’re here we should actually do something.”

“Do something?” Clay repeats. “Like what?”

“Like watch a movie,” Jeff suggests. “Or play video games. My dad has a foosball table in the basement. Something fun.”

“Oh, sure. Yeah, okay. Something fun.”

It takes everything he has for Jeff to not roll his eyes again. “Well, you don’t have to make it sound like such a chore, Clay. I mean, if sitting here watching me edit _is_ fun for you, then I’ve got no problem with it.” He opens his laptop again. “Though, if this _is_ fun for you, then maybe I finally understand why you can’t get a date,” he says quietly, looking up when he hears Clay start to stutter.

“Hey, I, I could probably get a date,” Clay says. “I know how to have fun. I know how to have a good time!”

Jeff smiles at Clay. “Okay, yeah, right. Like, analyzing the differences between Keaton and Bale’s Batmans.”

Clay stares at Jeff. “Well, what, you say that like it’s a bad thing!”

“It _is_ a bad thing!” Jeff replies, and he shuts his computer again. “Unless you find a girl who’s literally a copy of you most girls don’t care about that sort of thing.”

“Well, maybe I don’t want to date someone who isn’t into that sort of thing,” Clay says defensively, looking at Jeff. “The person I want to date would care about that.” He shakes his head, annoyed. “And another thing, I can’t even _begin_ to tell you about the differences between Keaton and Bale.”

“I _know_ ,” Jeff says. “I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I get it. You want to date someone who has the same interests as you.”

“Well, yeah,” Clay says. “Don’t you want to date a girl who likes baseball?”

Jeff shrugs. “I don’t know. They don’t have to like it. But they have to respect the fact that I do, and that it’s important to me, and yeah, I’d like it if they came to my games and cheered for me. If they can look past the fact that they hate it to support me, then that’s great. I’ll look past whatever I don’t care about and support them.” He smiles at Clay. “Like the differences between Keaton and Bale’s Batmans.” He chuckles at the look on Clay’s face. “Okay, so let’s talk about why you’re not dating anyone.”

Clay rolls his eyes and spins away from Jeff. “I didn’t come here for that, Jeff. I came here to help with your essay.”

“Right,” Jeff says, “but you should support that I don’t _care_ about my essay right now, and I want to talk about something that interests me, which is your love life. Or lack thereof. Okay, so what is it? I’ve never seen you with anyone.”

Clay feels like his head is spinning. He can talk to himself all day and night about why he’s always been single, but the idea of talking about it to Jeff, one of the most popular guys in school who could ask about anybody he wanted and get a yes, he can’t get the words out.

“Well?” Jeff asks in the silence. “Are you afraid of boobs? Did you accidentally bite a girl’s tongue once?” He waits for Clay’s response. “Have you never…”

Clay can feel his face heat up. “No,” he answers quietly. “I’m a virgin.” Jeff’s sharp laughter surprises him. “What?”

“Well, yeah Clay, I knew that,” Jeff says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “That’s not what I meant. I meant,” he waves his hand dismissively, “have you never kissed a girl before?”

“No!” Clay says quickly. “I’ve kissed. I’ve been kissed.”

“Okay,” Jeff nods, smiling. “And?”

“And what?”

“And, was it awful?” he asks “Did you like it? Did _she_ like it?”

Clay just stares at Jeff. “Why wouldn’t she like it? How would I know if she didn’t like it?”

Jeff laughs again. “Okay, I— I don’t even know where to begin right now.”

Clay quickly stands up. “Well you don’t have to be a dick about it, like I’m some sort of lost cause charity case because maybe I’m not that great at kissing. Sorry I don’t have all the experience of the most popular guy in school who’s also star of the baseball team, I can’t possibly imagine why we’ve had such different high school experiences.”

“Whoa Clay,” Jeff says, raising his hand, pushing himself off the wall. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m just messing around. I’m sure she liked it, I’m sure it was fine.”

“Yeah,” Clay says, slowly sitting back down. “It, it was.”

“Okay,” Jeff nods, and he feels bad for obviously offending Clay, even though it wasn’t his intention. “Okay, I’m sorry.”

Clay nods, picking at the edge of his sleeve. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak out like that. I just…I don’t have a lot of experience, and yeah, maybe that’s part of the reason I don’t want to ask anybody out.”

Jeff moves his laptop and the pillow off to the side, moving forward. “Don’t worry about it, Clay. I get it, when you’re not doing it, it feels like everybody is doing it. You’re far from the only virgin at our school.”

Clay takes a deep breath. “I just, I feel like at this point, everybody’s already kissed _so_ many people that it’s just that more obvious that I haven’t, and I’d just hate to disappoint someone.”

“You wouldn’t disappoint anyone,” Jeff says. “And, sure, I get being nervous, but if you’re so nervous that you’re going to be bad at something and you never do the thing, then you’re going to be bad at the thing. If I was too nervous to play baseball because I thought I’d be bad at baseball, I’d be bad at baseball. That’s why I still go to practice, dude.”

Clay scoffs. “Right. Well, let me know when Liberty High varsity kissing practice opens up and I’ll be sure to join.”

Jeff smiles widely. “I mean…it is, technically. If you want.”

“Want what?” 

Jeff shrugs, then looks around the room. “If you want to practice. I’m varsity.”

Clay stares at Jeff. “You want to practice kissing.”

Jeff laughs. “Ha, no, I don’t need to practice kissing.” Clay rolls his eyes. “But you just said it yourself, you’re worried you’re not good at it, you want more experience. I can help.”

“Are you serious?” Clay asks. He immediately feels like he’s going to be sick, like all the gay rumours have caught up to him again, and Jeff only invited him over to embarrass him, like Montgomery is hiding underneath his bed, ready to be witness to Clay’s coming out, or worse, use one of the baseball bats Clay just realized Jeff has leaning up against his wall. He wants to get up and run down the stairs as fast as he can, but a voice in the back of his head says he’s being ridiculous. Jeff is one of the nicest people he knows, who’s seemingly never said or done anything purposely rude, unlike most of the other jocks in his social circle. There’s no way he invited Clay over just to fuck with him. “I’m, I’m not gay.”

“Me either,” Jeff says with a shrug. “Look dude, if you don’t want to, I get it. If it freaks you out that I asked, I’m sorry. I just, I’m not going to be tutoring you in math or editing your shit or anything. I can do this, or I can teach you how to play baseball.”

“It doesn’t freak me out,” Clay says, “it just surprised me that you— that you suggested it. I just thought…” He can feel his face screw up. He knows he thought Jeff was straight, but he doesn’t want to say that and risk offending him. _Is_ Jeff straight? He could offer to kiss Clay and still be straight, Clay shouldn’t be so closed-minded. He could be bi and out and Clay have no idea. Clay doesn’t know what else to say. He looks at Jeff, sitting on his bed, waiting for his response, and he thinks about it. He pictures it in his head, sitting down next to him, Jeff leaning in and pressing their lips together. He swallows hard. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t think Jeff was attractive. And more than attractive, he was actually a decent person. Who wouldn’t run to Bryce or Montgomery tomorrow and tell them all about how he got Clay to kiss him, like it was some big joke. He’d probably be really nice about it.

“Thought what?” Jeff asks softly, breaking the silence.

Clay stands up slowly, and can feel himself shaking with nerves. “Thought you’d…” His mind is racing and he can’t think of a way to end that sentence. “Never ask?”

Jeff laughs, and Clay can’t fucking believe what his brain just said. Jesus Christ he was an idiot. “That’s not, uh, that’s not what I meant to say,” he says, and he can’t bring himself to move any closer to the bed.

“Shit Clay, thought I’d never ask?” Jeff repeats. “Wow, that’s ballsy. You could’ve just asked dude, I’d be fine with it.”

“I didn’t actually mean it,” Clay says again, but then Jeff is standing up and walking towards him.

“I know,” Jeff says gently, though he’s still smiling. “I’m just joking. Look, we don’t have to do anything, I was just—”

“I’d like to, though,” Clay interrupts him, meeting his eyes. “Kiss you.” He swallows heavily. That’s not what he meant to say either, but then Jeff is looking at him brightly, his hand coming up to rest on the juncture of Clay’s neck and shoulder, thumb gently swiping back and forth across his skin and Clay has chills when he reaches up to cup the back of Jeff’s neck, pulling him in. Jeff’s eyes flicker down to Clay’s mouth, watching his tongue nervously dart out and wet his lips, and then they’re together, Clay’s fingers clenching against Jeff’s neck as he breathes out. 

Jeff moves closer to Clay, his other hand coming up to the side of Clay’s face, and he opens his mouth slightly, moaning softly when Clay responds in kind, and Jeff wants to grab Clay harder, his mind racing as he thinks of pushing Clay back against his desk, but he just briefly slips his tongue out into Clay’s open mouth. Clay’s fingers are clenched again, and his other arm moves around Jeff’s waist, pulling him impossibly closer, the line of their bodies pressed wholly against each other. Jeff’s holding Clay, guiding his head as he increases the force of their kiss. Clay gasps against him, and Jeff can’t resist it, his tongue is in his mouth again, and Clay is softly groaning. His hand drops from Jeff’s waist, reaching out behind him, taking a shaky step backwards and bringing Jeff with him until he finds the edge of Jeff’s desk, his fingers gripping it tightly.

Their mouths break apart as Clay sits down, just barely on the edge of the desk, panting quietly. Jeff’s mouth moves over Clay’s skin, pressing soft kisses until he gets to Clay’s ear. “You okay?” he asks, and he looks to catch Clay’s eyes. 

“Uh, yeah,” Clay says with a jerk of the head. “That was…”

“Good,” Jeff finishes, and his mouth drops below Clay’s ear, kissing him there.

“Yeah,” Clay agrees, breathing out, and his hand is moving across Jeff’s shoulder, wanting desperately to hold him there but giving Jeff room to back off. “It was?”

Jeff chuckles lightly and he kisses Clay again. “You don’t need any pointers,” he assures him. He’s ready to move away if Clay signals that he wants him to, but right now, he’s so desperate to stay in Clay’s space, he wants to keep kissing him as the minutes tick away. 

“Are you sure?” Clay asks. “I…I won’t be offended.” He swallows heavily. He can’t keep his thoughts straight. “Was it too much? Not enough?” 

“Clay,” Jeff says, and his hands are moving to Clay’s hoodie, “if you want to keep going, you don’t have to pretend.” He tugs on the zipper, watching Clay’s reaction. “Is this okay?”

“What are we—” Clay trails off, watching his hoodie open. He’s not sure what he thinks will happen next, but Jeff doesn’t make another move.

“We’re just getting comfortable, if you want.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Jeff says, and he kisses Clay again. “Okay.” He’s leaning down a bit now, one of Clay’s legs between his, and he starts to get a rush. _Fuck_ , Clay Jensen, smart and witty, and _cute_ has moved his hand from the desk back to Jeff, fingers digging in just above his hip, and the hand on the back of his neck is keeping him there. To brace himself against Clay, he drops his hand to the desk beside Clay’s leg, then a moment later he moves it to Clay’s leg, pressing down on his upper thigh. Clay jumps and pulls back from Jeff, rattling one of the trophies on the desk.

“I’m sorry,” Jeff says, pulling back and standing up straight, his arm falling back to his side. “I wasn’t—”

“Sorry,” Clay says, shaking his head. “I just wasn’t expecting you to, is all. Sorry. Shit.”

“No, I shouldn’t have done it without asking,” Jeff says. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“It was just a surprise,” Clay says, and he’s pushing himself off the desk, stepping towards Jeff. “It wasn’t bad. I’ve just…I wasn’t expecting it. But it was okay.”

“We don’t have to touch,” Jeff says, and he feels guilty, even though Clay is in front of him saying it’s okay, he could have guessed that Clay had probably never been touched like that during a kiss.

“What if I want to?” Clay says quickly, and he can feel his cheeks heating up with embarrassment. Jeff could probably smell the desperation coming off him, but Clay was starting to feel almost giddy at the idea of getting Jeff’s hands back on him.

“Yeah?” Jeff asks, and Clay is nodding. 

“Yeah, I mean, I don’t know how good I’ll be at it,” Clay says, and he’s finding it hard to look at Jeff, “but you could always,” his mouth is dry all of a sudden, “show me?”

“Some pointers,” Jeff suggests, and Clay agrees with another nod. “You sure?” He glances back towards his bed, then looks back to meet Clay’s eyes. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“I mean,” Clay looks past Jeff to the bed, “I’m not ready for _that_ ,” and Jeff laughs, “but I’d like to keep kissing you.”

“Good,” Jeff says, and he presses his lips against Clay’s, moving his hands to his waist. “Tell me what else you want.” Jeff moves his mouth to under Clay’s jaw, waiting for a response.

Clay’s head is spinning, and he can’t tell if he wants Jeff’s body on top of him, pressing him down into the bed or if he wants to straddle him, feel the power of his body between his hips, and goddammit his breath is coming quickly now at the idea of Jeff touching him, his stomach feels strange at the idea of Jeff’s hands on him, but he knows he wants it to happen so badly. “I want…” Jeff pulls back, meeting his eyes, “I can show you.” Goddammit Jeff’s smile is a thing of beauty, Clay can’t help but kiss him again.

“Yeah, show me,” Jeff says, his voice low in Clay’s ear.

“Get on the bed,” Clay says, gesturing to the other side of the room. Jeff chuckles, impressed with Clay’s forcefulness, walking over to his bed. He sits down on the edge, watching Clay. 

“Now what?”

“Uh,” Clay steps towards him, fingers nervously playing with his zipper, “at the top, I mean.”

“Okay.” Jeff pushes himself up on the bed, reaching back to push a couple of his pillows up against the wall. He settles back, his legs slightly bent, and he’s waiting for Clay’s next move. Clay’s feet are slow to move, but then he’s sitting on the edge of the mattress, looking up at Jeff, then shrugging his hoodie off. He climbs slowly onto the mattress, crawling up until he’s beside Jeff, looking down at him. “Your move, Jensen,” Jeff says softly, and then Clay is shakily lifting his left leg, settling it down on the other side of Jeff’s hips, straddling him. 

“I uh,” Clay’s scared to put his weight down on Jeff, so he’s balanced above him, arms bracketed around Jeff’s head, “I didn’t really have a plan past this.”

“Just kiss me again,” Jeff says, leaning up, brushing his lips against Clay’s. “Okay?”

“Okay.” And Clay leans down, his weight on his arms, and almost as soon as their mouths start moving against each other, he can’t help his hips moving against Jeff’s, it’s like an instinct, and he breaks apart, head hanging heavily, looking between them.

“What’s wrong?” Jeff asks, reaching up, moving his hands in broad strokes against Clay’s back. One hand holds his waist, and then the other finds the hem of Clay’s t-shirt, slipping underneath it. Clay jumps a bit at that too, and Jeff rubs his skin softly, shushing him.

“I’m just nervous,” Clay admits, lifting his head. “I want to touch you so badly but I’m just worried that I’m going to fuck it up.”

“You won’t,” Jeff assures him. “Nothing you could do right now is going to fuck it up. You can touch me anywhere you want.”

Clay bites his bottom lip, and he swears to god he can feel the front of his boxers getting damp, he’s so fucking turned on right now, and _Jeff Atkins_ is beneath him, telling him he can touch him anywhere he wants.

“Do you want me to touch you instead?” Jeff asks, his hand still rubbing soothingly against Clay’s back. 

Clay squeezes his eyes shut, and he can feel himself trembling. “I, I do, but I’m scared if you do that—”

Jeff smiles knowingly and the hand he has on Clay’s waist moves down, past where the waistband of Clay’s boxers is visible just over his jeans, to Clay’s ass, gripping it and pulling Clay’s hips closer against his.

“Jeff, I’m, I’m serious, I might—”

“That’s okay,” Jeff promises him. “I won’t be offended.”

“No, but I’ll be fucking embarrassed,” Clay says, breath hitching when Jeff rolls his hips beneath him. “Oh my _god_ , Jeff.”

“I can stop, if you really don’t want me to,” Jeff says, “but you know, I can feel you against me.”

“Shit,” Clay mutters.

“It’s okay, Clay. Don’t be embarrassed. Have you ever been this hard around another person?”

Clay quickly shakes his head. “No, I, no. Are you?”

Jeff chuckles lightly. “Hell yeah, Jensen. You can’t feel it?”

Clay sighs, adjusting his weight, taking most of his off his arms and putting it into his hips. Firmly nestled against his ass, Clay can feel Jeff through his jeans, and he groans. “Jesus shit,” he breathes, and Jeff chuckles again.

“We don’t have to do anything but kiss and see what happens, okay?” Jeff asks, though his hand is pushing up underneath Clay’s shirt to the point that it’s riding up over Clay’s stomach and then Jeff’s hand has disappeared from Clay’s ass and is grasping the hem of the t-shirt. “Clay, I want to take your shirt off, is that okay?”

Clay sits up and reaches down, grasping his shirt and tugging it over his head. He drops it behind him somewhere near his hoodie, and then he leans back down, kissing Jeff again, their hips rocking against each other. He feels more nervous, cool air coming in from Jeff’s window, sending chills down Clay’s spine and tightening his skin, but somehow also feels more brazen, his mouth opening wider against Jeff’s, their tongues swiping against each other with more force. He’s never even come close to feeling like this before, not with another person, not while he’s wide awake. His hands curl into Jeff’s deep red henley, starting to tug it up. Jeff pushes himself off the bed completely, holding Clay on his lap with one hand, the other hand helping Clay with pulling his shirt off, dropping it to the floor. Clay always knew that Jeff’s body was ridiculous, pool parties and gym class making that clear, but in this moment it’s like nothing he’s ever fucking seen in his life.

Clay wraps his arms around Jeff’s neck, pulling him in. One of his hands pushes up through Jeff’s hair, that always looks so fucking good when Clay sees him. They’re both groaning, rocking against each other. “Jeff,” Clay gasps, breaking apart, head tilting to the side and Jeff immediately moving his mouth to Clay’s neck, sucking on his collarbone. “Oh shit, Jeff, I…” Jeff’s hand is gripping the back of Clay’s neck, pulling him back into a kiss, and the pressure in Clay’s jeans is reaching levels of unbearable, he feels so close, he can’t imagine how this night ends without him coming but he can’t bring himself to touch himself, or ask Jeff to touch him either.

But Jeff gets it. His hand moves from Clay’s ass, fingers dancing around the waistband of his jeans, until coming to the button at front. He slips the button through the hole, then pulls back to meet Clay’s eyes, searching to see if he’s gone too far. “Clay, is this okay?” he asks.

Clay squeezes his eyes shut, embarrassed, his body moving against Jeff’s, his hands holding him close. “I’ll come,” he says tightly. “I’ve never…it’ll happen and I—” The sound of his zipper being lowered is deafening in his ears and then he feels Jeff’s hand on him, still over his boxers, but his palm is massaging him and _holy shit_ is this what it feels like when other people touch you? Clay’s body feels like it’s on fire.

“It’s okay,” Jeff breathes into Clay’s ear, “I want it to happen.” He kisses Clay again, Clay desperately whimpering into his mouth as Jeff’s hand moves over the length of Clay, feeling him against the fabric, already damp, and it doesn’t take much longer before Clay pulls away from him, whining gently, and Jeff can feel Clay’s dick jumping against his hand, the wet spot growing warmer and damper. Clay’s hips keep moving for a few moments more before he stops, breathing heavily, his forehead resting against Jeff’s bare shoulder.

Jeff brushes his lips against the top of Clay’s head, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He’s panting quietly, still hard in his own jeans, but he’s not about to ask Clay to touch him back. He doesn’t want to freak the guy out, who could be in crisis right now for all he knows. He’s prepared for a litany of “oh shit, we shouldn’t have done that” but when Clay lifts his head, his blue eyes are bright, and he has a smile on his face. 

“Holy shit,” Clay says with a disbelieving chuckle. “Uh, wow.” He reaches to scratch the back of his head. 

“Yeah,” Jeff smiles, giving Clay another quick kiss. He doesn’t want to move from this spot, but he knows Clay will start to feel uncomfortable soon in his sticky shorts, and he wants to help him out. “Uh, this might sound kind of weird, but you can borrow a pair of mine until you— if you want, until you like, get home and can wash them. It’s no problem.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Clay smiles, but when Jeff moves to help Clay off his lap, he can feel how hard Jeff still is against him. “Shit, Jeff, I didn’t even…you should let me, okay?”

Jeff smiles, and just shakes his head, climbing out from underneath Clay, rolling off the bed and then walking over to his dresser. “Don’t worry about it, Clay. I’m good.” He grabs a pair of black boxer briefs then turns around, tossing them to Clay. “I’m not the one who needed the practice, right?” He’s trying to make a joke, but he can immediately hear how it must sound to Clay, and he steps towards the bed. “Shit, that is _not_ what I meant, Clay. I don’t mean it was just for practice, I just mean, you don’t have to do anything, I can take care of it when you leave, it’s not a problem, I just don’t want you to freak out or feel pressured or anything.” He pauses to look at Clay. “It was your first time, we don’t have to do anything else.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and looks away. “Fuck,” he mutters. 

Clay swallows hard, shakily climbing off the bed. His jeans are still undone, and he knows Jeff’s right, he should change out of his boxers pretty soon, but he doesn’t want to ruin another pair. He walks to Jeff, pressing against his body, a hand cupping the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Jeff raises his arms, his hands on Clay’s waist, their kisses much calmer now, Clay still trembly in his arms, and then Clay takes a step forward, Jeff stepping back, realizing he’s being guided back to his desk. He leans against the edge, looking down between them as Clay’s hands awkwardly fumble at his button, then tug down his zipper. He’s wearing grey boxer briefs, swallowing hard as he sees the dark spot on the front. Clay looks up, meeting Jeff’s eyes, and then presses his palm against him. He’s not 100 percent sure what he’s doing here, but Jeff’s stuttering breath, his eyes fluttering closed… Clay sees him biting down on his bottom lip, trying to stifle his groans. “Fuck you’re hot,” Clay says, and he moves his hand up just a few inches, fingers dipping under Jeff’s waistband.

Jeff laughs sharply at Clay’s candor, but it turns into a loud groan when Clay’s long fingers grip him firmly, giving him a few awkward strokes before getting the angle and speed right, the sound of Jeff’s moans and breathy encouragement in his ear spurring him on. “Jesus, Clay,” Jeff moans, reaching down to grip onto the edge of the desk, his knuckles white. “Holy Christ.” His breath is shaky, his hips grinding up into Clay’s fist. He feels delirious, like he can’t actually believe Clay Jensen is in his room with his hand on his dick but it’s definitely happening. “Yeah, shit, that’s so good.”

Clay can’t believe how much Jeff likes talking during this, but it’s kind of turning him on again. He wants to get off again, soon, preferably still with Jeff and not alone in his bedroom at home, but he wants to make Jeff feel good first. They can keep taking turns. 

It feels like Jeff’s orgasm is a surprise to him. He gasps deeply, his head falling back. He breathes heavily, staring up at the ceiling, taking these big breaths, and then he starts to chuckle like he’s in disbelief.

Clay looks around for something on which to wipe his hand, as much as he doesn’t want to do it on his jeans, he’d feel like a jerk doing it on Jeff’s.

“Oh, shit,” Jeff says, and he reaches back behind him, grabbing a couple Kleenex from his desk, handing them to Clay. Clay wipes his hand off, crumpling the tissues and dropping them in the garbage can next to their feet. “That was insane, Clay.” 

“In a good way?” Clay asks, but he feels like he already knows the answer. Jeff is smiling brightly at him, a thin sheen of perspiration on his body while he’s trying to calm his breathing. 

“Fuck yeah,” Jeff says, and his voice has a roughness to it, almost an awkward crack, Clay can’t help but smile back. _He_ did that to Jeff. Clay and Jeff Atkins fooled around in his frigging bedroom. Somebody other than Clay’s own hand made him come. He couldn’t fucking believe it. “Whew,” Jeff says, leaning in to give Clay a quick kiss, before moving past him to lean down and pick his shirt up off the floor. He wipes his forehead with it, before tugging it back over his head. “You are fucking full of surprises, Clay. Jesus Christ. And I thought you really just wanted to come over to help me study!”

“What?” Clay asks. “I did! I do. I didn’t plan this. _Trust_ me, I wish I could have imagined something this awesome happening tonight. And besides, you’re the one who said, oh, come to my house, I’m sure my parents won’t be home. If anything, you’re the one who wanted to hook up with me.”

Jeff laughs, then clears his throat. “I’m just fucking around with you, Clay.” He smiles and shakes his head, and they kiss again. “I’m just saying, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Clay rolls his eyes. “Trust me, I didn’t either. I think I’m surprised as you are. Like, I wish that you weren’t you so that I could show up to school tomorrow and say, hey Jeff, guess who I fucked last night? Jeff Atkins!” Jeff laughs loudly at that. Clay shakes his head in disbelief. “I mean, I wouldn’t believe me if I didn’t see it myself. Like, did I imagine it? Or did we actually…”

“We actually, man,” Jeff says. “Yeah. And it was… I liked it. I like _you_ , Clay.” Clay smiles at him. “I kinda hope you like me too.”

“Are you serious?” Clay asks. “Of course I fucking like you. I mean, I assume you’ve seen your body, you’re the one living with it. I’m just… fucking Jeff Atkins, one of the few actually decent people at our school likes me? I don’t get it. Why are you always asking me who I’m dating and trying to get me to go out with girls if you liked me?”

Jeff shrugs. “Just trying to be a good friend. Thought you might freak out about it if I tried anything else, so… I wasn’t going to.”

“Wow,” Clay says. “So, if I hadn’t come over tonight, we probably could’ve gone our entire lives without ever doing that together?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Well that’s fucking insane,” Clay says, spinning around to grab his t-shirt, pulling it on. “Because that was fucking awesome and we’re probably going to have to do it again, so… man, we could’ve been doing this for weeks already! We’re idiots!”

Jeff laughs. “Maybe me, but definitely not you.”

Clay looks at him. “Jeff, you know you’re not an idiot, right? Needing a tutor doesn't make you dumb. I mean, I told you, it’s a great paper.” He narrows his eyes. “Wait, are you even failing anything? Was this all a big ruse to get into my pants? Because I mean, I respect the hell out of it if it’s true, and it means we can stop spending so much time in the library, but—”

“Nope, sad to say, still need the tutoring,” Jeff says. He shakes his head in disbelief, then climbs back on his bed. His essay is now slightly crumpled, but he’s just thankful there’s nothing on it, and he shoots Clay a smile. “I uh, you should change into these,” he says, tossing the boxer briefs to Clay, “and I’m going to try to finish editing this, and then maybe we can watch a movie after, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Clay says, looking down at the underwear which isn’t really his size but he figures it’ll have to do because he can’t sit in Jeff’s room and watch him fix typos in his current state. “I’ll be right back.” He walks out of Jeff’s room without thinking, ducking into the bathroom, quickly pushing off his jeans and boxers, pulling on Jeff’s, and then getting back into his jeans, his own boxers crumpled in his hand. He walks back into Jeff’s room and then shoves them into his backpack. 

“Well, you just touched my dick, but I respect the not wanting to change in front of me thing, that’s cool,” Jeff says, not looking up from his computer screen, but he’s smiling in obvious amusement.

Clay rolls his eyes, feeling dumb for a moment, then just smiles back at Jeff. “Yeah, I figured if you saw me naked you probably wouldn’t be able to finish working on that essay.”

Jeff’s fingers stop on the keyboard and he looks up at Clay, eyes dark. “Yeah, you know, you’re probably right.”

Clay swallows hard. “Um, but if you get a B minus on that paper I might…let you. See me.” He feels nervous, wondering if he’s pushed it too far. 

“What if I get a double at the game this weekend?”

Clay isn’t entirely sure what that means, but he figures Jeff could probably pull it off. “Well, we’ll uh, we’ll see then.” He shrugs with a half-smile. “Finish your paper, and we’ll talk about it.”

Jeff watches him for a moment, then smiles and gives him a wink. “Alright, whatever you say.” He shakes his head, going back to his essay, more determined than ever to do well on it. He's gotta get a least a B minus.

**Author's Note:**

> so, I haven't written anything in forever, and have never written anything for this fandom before, but Jeff Atkins deserves better, and honestly Clay is a cutie he deserves better too. there's no mention of Hannah, or Tony, and this takes place in some sort of weird undefined time before their lives start to suck.


End file.
